


Lessons Learned

by MoonshineMadame



Series: A Spellman family history [2]
Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, Family Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, mom-Zelda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 14:52:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16621103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonshineMadame/pseuds/MoonshineMadame
Summary: It was a lesson they all had to learn. Zelda learned it, so did Hilda and then later Edward. Now it is Sabrina's turn and hopefully, she will understand that there is a price for everything.





	Lessons Learned

**Author's Note:**

> Has anyone else ever wondered what Zelda did when she learned the lesson that everything had a price? I certainly did and when I started thinking about it, this is what I ended up with. It turned into a much bigger piece about the Spellman siblings' past than I expected but there is a fair bit of Zelda being protective of Sabrina later on.  
> I really hope you like it as I have some other pieces about the Spellmans' 'past' comming up :)
> 
> The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina do not belong to me.

_Everything has a price._

It’s a lesson she learned, many, many years ago when she was young and much more foolish than she would ever be afterwards.

It’s a lesson her sister learned, when she was once again too kind for her own good and it blew right up in her face.

It’s the lesson her brother learned, when he struck a deal with the devil and promised something that had never been his to give away.

It’s the lesson her niece will learn now, when she realises that she doesn’t have the power, the experience, the prospects to save the Kinkel boy.

 

* * *

 

 

Zelda wants to be mad at her, she really does. But she simply can’t bring herself to be angry at Sabrina, not when what she hopes to accomplish reminds her so much of her own youth. It is not nostalgia, though, that rushes through her, it is worry and pain.

Sabrina is more like her than she would ever admit – which does nothing to sooth her troubles. Quite the opposite, in fact. For it means that once the girl has put her mind to something, there will be nothing that could ever stop her.

She should have stayed calm, reasoned with her and not tried to hammer sense into her stubborn head. But they had always been good at riling each other up and it was no surprise that the situation had escalated. Zelda knew, from her own experience, that was said in anger was untrue more often than not but still, Sabrina’s words had stung.

They still did, in fact. They just hit too close home, not that Sabrina would ever know that, of course. At the same time, they had reminded Zelda that they all had to learn from their mistakes and though she was glad for her sister’s interference – it had given her time to collect herself – she suddenly knew that now was the time to pass this particular lesson on to Sabrina.

Foretelling the future had never been one of Zelda’s many talents but this time, she knew exactly how it would end. And she hated herself for doing this to Sabrina but what else could she do? Nothing.

Yet as she was standing in front of her mirror, punishing herself for…for all the stupid, arrogant mistakes she had made, she couldn’t help but think of how they all had to learn that nothing ever came without a price.

 

* * *

 

 

Zelda had been seven years old when her parents had send her to the academy. Too powerful, too much temperament, too hard to control – too dangerous to keep around the baby. Hilda, three years at that point, was hardly a baby anymore but in their parents’ eyes, she could never do anything wrong. Unlike Zelda, who’s very first mistake was not being a boy but a girl. A girl with enough power and character to make any father proud – if only she had been a boy, an heir.

As it was, she arrived at the academy and was one of their youngest students – only the orphans were even younger and of course that made her a wonderful target for the older students.

They came for her in her first night for her harrowing and took her down, all the way into the deepest dungeons.  
‘Sit with the ghosts and we’ll see if you’re still sane in the morning,’ they said and then left her alone in the dark. When they came back the next morning, they thought she had gone mad overnight – she was, after all, talking to thin air. But then she turned around and smiled and told them that the ghosts had wonderful stories of the past and then she walked back up to her room.

If she had impressed them, they didn’t show it when they came again the second night. This time, they went up, all the way to the highest tower where they put the prisoners in iron bird-cages and let them hang over the ground.  
‘Don’t look down or you’ll be gone in the morning,’ they said and left her in the cold. She sat in the middle of the cage, never moving towards the edge even when her mother’s voice was begging and her beloved little sister cried for help. When they came for her in the morning, she just gave them a lovely but very unsettling little smile and went to class.

They came back one more time, in her third night and this time, they took her out into the woods. The sun had long settled when they put her into a little boat without oars and pushed her away off the lakes shore.  
‘Be back before the sun rises or the dawn-crows will get you,’ they said and then disappeared back into the darkness. For the first time, young Zelda was really frightened but what options did she have? So she relied on her dark Lord and her magic to keep her safe and somehow, it worked. She never knew which of the two it was, maybe a mix of both, that allowed her to be back in her room long before the other girls woke up again.

She had quietly taken the key, locked the door and then went to the library and when the other girls were finally freed after breakfast, it was a shock when she handed them the key back with pursed lips and thin eyes before smiling sweetly again and then hurrying off to class. From then on, she was only treated with the upmost respect – though maybe some were secretly afraid of the little girl with the red plaits and the too-sweet smile.

As it was, by the time Hilda arrived at the school, Zelda was very much in charge of keeping the other students on track and she knew one thing for sure: If she didn’t give her sweet little sister a hard time herself, someone else would do it. That would much worse, that she was certain of, and only she as the older sister had any right to be mean to Hilda.  
Ironically, Hilda loathed her for how she treated her at school, how cruel and ruthless she had been. If only she had known the reason, she might have changed her mind but Zelda never said a single word to explain her actions when asked and soon, people stopped questioning it altogether.

Still, starting the academy so young had its disadvantages as well – though students usually came to the academy when they were around ten at that time, Zelda had already finished all the material from the last classes before she was even baptised. The teachers and priests had taken her aside then, out of any regular classes and she spend most of her time studying quietly in the library.

But the real trouble started much later, years after she had left the academy. It was a boy, just recently baptised, the son of an equally old family in their coven. He was apparently very bright and had stumbled across some old notes she must have left in one of the demonology-books in the academies library decades ago. That wouldn’t have been half bad, if he didn’t hold a grudge against little Edward, who already got special training from the high priest even though he had just started at the academy.

His parents dropped him off at the Spellman siblings’ home and the boys went upstairs, supposedly studying for some special project. By the time Zelda realised that something was wrong, it was almost too late. She had rushed upstairs, to see what was going on and though she could never forget the picture of what she found, her memory of what happened afterwards were blurry at best.

She had tried to banish the demon, stop him from hurting her brother – and even that terrible boy – but of course he had to call a high demon, so she wasn’t strong enough. Her sister came rushing in, trying to find out what was wrong but it only put her in the demon’s fire line.

 _Please,_ Zelda prayed to the dark Lord, _help me. Let me save my family – I can’t lose them._

She did not get an answer but she remembered the feeling of power flowing through her veins and suddenly it was easy to put the demon back where it belonged. She remembers breaking the circle, hugging her sister and brother and after that, there is nothing but magic and darkness.

The next thing she remembers is a single sentence, pushing away any other thought and she knows that it is not something she thought herself, it’s a thought someone else put in her mind. It is the answer she did not get, the answer to her prayer.

**_A family for a family._ **

Back then, she didn’t know what it meant. It took her years to understand that while she may have saved her family that day, she could never have one of her own.

 

* * *

 

 

How could she have been so arrogant to think that Sabrina would be different? She was not her mother, of course not, though at times she thought that this must be what a real mother felt like.

Sabrina’s words had – unintentionally – been a cruel reminder of the price she payed once to keep her family safe and maybe that was why she had let her go: so she could and learn her lesson in a way that would at least keep her somewhat safe. Because no matter what, the dark Lord did not have claim on her yet and therefore the price would be a mortal one.

She is so deep in thought, her arm moving by itself until it is stopped by the warm hands she instantly knows are her sister’s, that she doesn’t even know what to say at first. What is there to say? Of course Hilda knows, she had been there when Zelda realised what price she had payed. For the first, she had been the one to pick up the pieces and it still she had been blissfully unaware of the price their stupid, infuriating little brother had paid when he asked for permission to marry Diana. It hadn’t been until after Zelda had told Sabrina why her name was already in the book that the realisation settled in for her as well.

It was only at rare times like today that Hilda was the one who ended up taking care her shaking sister. Oh, she comforted Sabrina plenty of times over heartache and teenage trouble but it wasn’t often that she was the one holding their family together. That was what Zelda had dedicated herself to, to keep them all as close and yet as far away as possible. It meant picking up the pieces every single time and the only reason she wasn’t doing so right now, was because she was the broken one. And that meant Hilda would patch her up again, just like Zelda had put her back together when she had been the one to learn about the price everything had.

 

* * *

 

 

It had been many years ago, when they had taken up midwifery again as their latest occupation. It was the first time Hilda had died, and for a while Zelda had feared it might be permanent. And for once, it wasn’t even her fault.

The couple Hilda had tended to was expecting twins and Hilda had assured them that at least one of them would be a boy. Then, one day, the result suddenly changed and though Hilda knew what it meant, she did not tell the father or the already distressed mother. But of course, it had to come to light sooner rather later, when the mother gave birth to two healthy girls and a sickly boy who died just minutes after he took his first breath.

The mother was in grieve and the father was mad, the Spellman sisters were known for rarely ever losing a child and he certainly did not want two daughters if he didn’t have an heir. So in the evening, he went into the local tavern and after he got himself drunk, he came to their house and simply killed Hilda.

If Zelda hadn’t been out tending to her own patients…she didn’t want to think about it. Luckily, she came back in time to hex that wretched man and burry Hilda in the Cain pit. It took almost 24 hours before she came stumbling back inside and from then on, Zelda kept watch every time she killed her sister. Though it had been nowhere near as dramatic as Zelda’s turn of learning this particular lesson, it was enough for Hilda.

 

* * *

 

 

And then there was Edward. And of course, their little brother had to top both of them in terms of stupidity. Just to clarify that: Both Hilda and Zelda thought that their brother was brilliant but sometimes, when it came to making good choices, he could be utterly fatuitous. Perhaps, Hilda had once mused, it was the youth and Zelda had added that it could just as well be the simple fact that he was a man.

They had all laughed about it back then, they always did when Edward was once again teased by his sisters. But now, Zelda couldn’t laugh about it anymore, not after the deal he made.

He hadn’t told either of them, of course not. He knew what they would think about it – say about it, so he kept it himself. Oh, they had wondered, yes! Everyone had, every witch and warlock had wondered what deal he stuck with Satan himself to get him to agree to a union between a priest and a mortal. But no one had dared to ask and even if someone did – like both of his sisters – they would only get a mysterious and charming smile as an answer. He could not talk about it.

Or rather, he didn’t _want_ to talk about it, as Zelda later found out.

It was the third night after Sabrina had been born when her brother knocked at her door. She knew right away that something was wrong, his face had always been an open book to his sisters. Instead of answering her question about what was going on, he told her to bundle up Sabrina and come into the woods.  
‘And no word to Hilda or Diana,’ he had whispered and because her brother was a high priest, Zelda trusted his judgement and did as she was asked.

A grave mistake, as she soon realised. The moment she stepped on to clearing with the baby, she knew what was going to happen, a dark baptism wasn’t that hard to point out between their ceremonies – even if it was the tiniest she had ever seen.

If she had a choice in the matter, she would have turned around and taken her niece right back home again.  
Yes, she wanted her name in the book so she could be a full witch but it should be her own decision. Zelda, much older than her brother, had seen it before and it rarely ended well when the parents signed the book for their child before their real baptism. It wasn’t so much the name that was signed that would turn into a problem eventually, it was more the fact that the child would grow up with his will, his soul, his very being, already given away. At first it wouldn’t be noticeable but at some point they would realise the something about them was different and by then, it was usually too late to keep them from being mad about the truth.

‘Why?’ she hissed when she realised that he had spotted them and she had no other option the step next to him. The fury in her eyes was barely concealed and for the first time in years Edward Spellman had been reminded that his eldest sister was one of the most powerful witches – perhaps even the most powerful – in their coven. But he did not budge, he couldn’t.

‘Because I promised it,’ he had whispered back and her eyes went wide. ‘Permission to marry Diana in exchange for my firstborn’s name in his book.’

‘You are a fool, Edward. If this was the price, you should have never taken the bargain.’

‘Her name will be signed in the book when she turns sixteen anyway, what does it matter if it is a few years earlier?’ For once in her life, Zelda Fiona Spellman was at a loss for words and before she could think of something to say, her brother had pulled her up to the alter. There was only one other person on the clearing with them, a priest even younger than Edward, likely one of his students, who would perform the baptism.

Under other circumstances, Zelda would have been more than happy that her brother had chosen her to be Sabrina’s unholy godmother but as it was, she had to restrain herself from taking her niece and take her away from this ceremony, away to safety.

It was ironic, she though later, how Edward had learned his lesson so late in life. Even when he signed his daughter’s name in the book, he didn’t know that he had signed away her free will, her life, really. How, she wondered, could he happily give away the one thing she could never ever have?

Only later, when they were on their way back home and Zelda refused to hand her goddaughter back to him, she realised that while Hilda knew about the price she once paid, her brother did not. But it didn’t matter and they had already reached the house when she finally looked at him.

‘Everything has a price, Edward. But you…you didn’t even pay it yourself. You just made your daughter pay it for you.’

‘Whatever do you mean, sister?’

‘You signed away your daughters free will, Ned. The bargain is simple and yet…a family for a family, a death for a death, a will for a will.’

After that, Zelda had turned around and stalked inside, only to sit next to Sabrina’s cradle the entire night to watch over her.

Edward didn’t dare to speak to her for an entire week and everyone was wondering what had happened between them. But then, just before black mass, he came to her again, a rather sad look on his face – he understood. Not about the other bargains she told him about, but that he paid the wrong price for what he asked from their lord.

Zelda had just nodded and then they left to go to church. He had learned his lesson, too late, yes, but in the end he did.

 

* * *

 

 

Now that she is sitting there, crying those rare tears in her sister’s shoulder, Zelda wonders how it could possibly not be her fault, this entire disaster. If she had listened to her instinct and taken Sabrina away, let her brother pay his own debt – but she knew that even if she had dared to, she couldn’t have left. The deal had been made long before that night, they had only executed it.

Still, if she had just let Sabrina stay with Diana’s family – as much as she had despised them for being mortal – she might not have been in this kind of trouble. She might have never come to resent them – her, really – so much.

Zelda’s thoughts were pouring out of her and Hilda’s arms around her are the only thing that kept her from falling apart completely. Neither of them knows what was actually said and what was just thought but right now it doesn’t matter. They use this gift so rarely, the ability to connect their minds– usually, they block the mortals and shut out the other witches but sometimes, like right now, using real words is just too hard.

‘I should have told you about the christening,’ Hilda says suddenly. They have closed their minds off again and she is currently putting one of her special creams on Zelda’s raw back. Her sister doesn’t answer for a while and Hilda thinks that perhaps she should just let it go but then Zelda turns her head and looks at her.

‘You should have come forward during that first night we were on trial. Then it would have made a difference.’

‘I should have told you about it right after Diana asked me, Zelds. And you shouldn’t have kept it to yourself that Edward signed her name in the book.’

‘You don’t understand, do you, Hilda?’

‘What don’t I understand?’ She stops her work and her eyes find her sister’s.

‘It wouldn’t have made a difference. At the trial, yes, but not before. Edward had made a deal and he had to keep it…’ Zelda’s voice trails off but for once, Hilda doesn’t press it any further and instead focusses on the task of rubbing the last of her cream in Zelda’s shoulders.

 

* * *

 

 

Hours later, when both Hilda and Ambrose have long disappeared to their respective rooms, Zelda finds herself outside on the porch, looking into the night while she is waiting for Sabrina to come back. She already suspects what she will encounter, she knows her niece too well. And she is right, again.

For once she wishes she was wrong, just wants to spare Sabrina any pain. It doesn’t matter anymore what she had said in their fight – Zelda has long forgiven her for that. It’s funny, really, how little she cares about being hurt herself when the mere thought of Sabrina being in pain makes her feel terrible.

But this time, she knows, there is nothing she can do other than hold her. This time, it had to end this way, Sabrina _had_ to learn that there were consequences for her actions and that sometimes even what you think might be right, is wrong.

Zelda doesn’t have to ask about it, she already knows that Sabrina has understood, that she has learned her lesson. It’s in her eyes, her pained, scrunched up face as she cries over her broken heart. They say a broken heart can hurt worse than any injury but eventually, time will take the pain away and it will be as good as knew. A broken heart they can deal with, Zelda thinks as she stirs her niece up the stairs to her room. If Sabrina wants to cry, she should – tears were there to cleanse the cuts and bruises of the aching heart and even if it was to take a long time, she would be alright again.

That thought keeps her upright while she gently wipes away the tears on Sabrina’s face before tucking her in.

‘Aunt Zee?’

She’s surprised when she hears the chocked voice just as she is about to turn of the light, so she turns around and sits on the bed. When Sabrina was small, she and Hilda would take turns in tucking her in and when she got older, only Hilda continued but now she feels like she travelled back in time and is telling a little Sabrina not to be afraid of monsters under her bed.

Sabrina’s hand finds hers and she looks at her aunt with wide, tear filled eyes.

‘I’m sorry, aunt Zee. For what I said to you, earlier…’

Her voice breaks and she quickly turns her face away but Zelda wouldn’t have any of it. Very gently she takes Sabrina’s chin and looks her straight in the eyes. Perhaps she is a little too soft tonight but it was a long, terrible day for both of them.

‘You were angry, Sabrina, and you were right. You had to do this yourself.’

‘You knew I would fail.’ It wasn’t really a question and Sabrina’s voice is quivering again. Zelda gently pushes a strand of her blonde hair out of her niece’s face.

‘You didn’t fail, Sabrina, look at me. You did not fail. In the end, you did the right thing and that is what should matter to you.’

‘But I hurt so many people…you and aunt Hilda and Harvey…’ Oh dear.

‘We are fine, Hilda and I. And young Harvey will be soon be better as well. Just like you will be.’

‘Aren’t you mad at me?’

There is something in her eyes that reminds Zelda of the little girl she used to be – still can be, sometimes. Like right now, a little girl who only needs the assurance that she is safe and loved. Well, that, at least, Zelda can do.

She smiles and wipes her niece’s tears away once more.

‘No, Sabrina, I am not mad at you.’ _I could never be._

Silence falls over the room and Zelda carefully gets up from the bed and turns of the light. She is just about to leave when Sabrina’s sleepy voice makes her turn around again.

‘Auntie Zee?’

‘Yes?’

‘Could you stay with me?’

She doesn’t answer but by the time she reaches the bed, her suit has turned into a nightgown and she slips into bed next to her niece. The girl immediately curls into her side, just like she used to when she was a child and came to her aunts because she had a nightmare. As Zelda wraps her arms around her, a single tear rolls down her cheek.

Maybe they both learned a lesson today.

**Author's Note:**

> The title, I realised after finishing this, is also from a Carrie Underwood song and while it was entirely unintentional, the song actually fits this story quite well :)


End file.
